


Try A Little Tenderness

by seupeuu



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mythology, M/M, References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:15:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27895900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seupeuu/pseuds/seupeuu
Summary: Jeno, God of War, finds solace in the unexpected encounter with a charming river nymph
Relationships: Lee Jeno & Na Jaemin, Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin
Comments: 13
Kudos: 79





	Try A Little Tenderness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hamleting](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hamleting/gifts).



Innumerous groups of contented soldiers are gathered around the fire, singing songs of glory and triumph, overwhelmed by victory. They feed on rich bread and foreign flesh, sinking their teeth deep into sacred veil meat like wild lions, while the commander congratulates them with a vain laugh. The sun illuminates their prideful faces in the early hours of the morning and Jeno watches from afar, chin held high, a wicked smirk plastered on his lips.

His soldiers have won the war; an atrocious war, a war that lasted too long for him to recall how peaceful life was before it started. How stale. Maybe this is the reason why he’s feeling so dismal after his legions’ success, because now that it is over, nothing’s left for him to rejoice in. A light breeze caresses his skin as the thought of eternal boredom chases a familiar sadness that settles grim inside his skull, like a bird of ill omen ready to snatch its prey. From the camp, the commander notices Jeno sitting alone far away from the crowd, so he runs towards him with a big smile.

“I haven’t seen you in a while.” he observes, sitting down beside him.

“Maybe not physically, but I was there in spirit, through the best and the worst. I’ve seen your men fight and suffer and die, I was with them the whole time.” He justifies himself, sounding more apologetic than anything. The commander throws a comprehensive glance at him. “I know.” he says, taking a deep breath. “Thank you. For the victory and everything.”

This is why Jeno likes him: although he’s got hot blood running through his veins, the commander is too good natured and too magnanimous to lash out on him, even though he’s the reason people have given up their lives, the cause of it all. Jeno wouldn’t go as far as to consider him a friend, but the young man is often kind to him, always understanding of his actions and his belligerent, fucked-up plans. It isn’t easy being friends with the God of war, after all, but Jeno is quite glad to have gotten acquainted with someone who doesn’t see him merely as a dumb divinity, privileged and bathed in his own ego.

“You shouldn’t thank me, commander Huang.” he admits, humbly “Go talk to Yangyang, though: he’s the God of Victory, and we both know how much he loves to be praised.”

They chuckle. “Ah, yes, I should look for him. I mean, Yangyang and I do have some…” he winks at Jeno “...unfinished business. If you know what I mean.” 

Jeno really doesn’t know what to do with that information, so he pretends to gag (an action that’s quite ungodlike and makes Huang Renjun smile once more) and then tries to change the topic. “Now that the war is finished, I’m sure you’ll be happy to go back home. Do you have anyone there waiting for you?”

There is a moment of silence, then a pensive smile manifests itself upon the commander’s pale cheeks.  
“My brother: he’s ill, so he couldn't join the army back when I was recruited. I hope he’s doing better now. What about you? Any new crazy good-looking lovers I should know about?” Huang Renjun wiggles his eyebrows and Jeno looks at the ground, shy. “It was just a fling with Dejun, and you know it. Besides, falling for a human never ends well…”

“Blah, blah,” Huang Renjun gestures with his hand “You and Dejun were good together. Plus, he was super hot, sometimes I ask myself why you left him...” he rubs his chin and Jeno lets out a resigned chuckle: “I didn’t leave him, we just… drifted apart. Don’t worry, it happened with the other ones too so I’ve gotten used to it by now.”

“See? This is why we can’t have nice things!” Renjun scolds him, although his tone speaks affection rather than concern, “I ask you about your love life and you start crying over your past lovers. I better go look for Yangyang before I turn into a mad man by talking to you!”   
Jeno follows with a giggle: “Alright. See you around, Huang.”

“Yes. But not too soon, I would hope.” the commander disappears in the distance and then into a crowd of fatigued soldiers, on the look for a night of pleasure with the personification of victory himself, as Jeno ponders over his words.

Jeno hadn’t given himself the chance to find love after that time he’d been caught romancing with a mortal, suffering the other Gods’ injurious mockery. In all truth, he’s just afraid to let himself fall again into a well of sweetness and lust, to let himself feel genuine sentiment after such a long time spent anticipating such a material achievement like the spoils of war, that he finally got after years and years of fighting among his troops. Because Jeno’s been half in love with the idea of living solely for his soldiers anyway, and was never concerned about someone caring for him in a way that’s definite and kind and gives him a reason to believe in himself. Tired and apathetic, Jeno seeks a way into the darkened woods, as his boots follow the ancient footprints of his ancestors. He walks for a long time, following the stars, eventually witnessing the sky adjust to a myriad of pale tints as the new daylight makes itself known over the horizon. He walks until all of his concerns have been thoroughly analysed and the tissues of his brain are completely consumed by thought.

As the sun reaches the zenith, Jeno is hit with the realisation that he’s been walking in circles for hours, stumbling upon the same places over and over, and with peaceful dejection he stops to catch his breath. Upon a slender twig that’s coming out of a bush hang a few berries, and Jeno has never seen anything more appetising before; so he reaches out to grab them, smearing their juice all over his palms. They taste bitter, but he gulps them down anyway, and when he’s done eating, he licks a violaceous droplet that slides maliciously down his wrists.

A sudden rustle of leaves causes him to look up and turn towards a luminous opening in the forest between two majestic willow trees. That’s when he first sees him: a fair creature, singing like a nightingale in the afternoon sun, twirling and waltzing among the glistening wisteria trees as the breeze caresses his hair in a playful motion, in a meadow of gracious daffodils and tall grass. He’s playing a game with himself, where he attempts to jump between the willows and the quiet river back and forth, only allowed to step on the moss and trying to avoid the flowery spots that draw elaborate designs in a bright yellow tint upon the grassy floor.

“Excuse me? I-” Jeno tries, startling the boy who looks at him from a distance like a frightened deer “I think I might be lost… Wh- where am I? And, who are you?”

The creature walks carefully towards him, followed by a little bird who perches itself upon Jeno’s shoulder, ruffling the hair that falls messy on his nape. The bird quickly flutters away as Jeno realises the boy must be a naiad: he looks just like a normal person, a quite handsome one at that, but he’s got thin, blueish gills etched prettily along his neck.  
All he’s wearing is a flower crown and a flimsy veil around his waist, and the mighty God of War, draped in golden and leather vests, feels an unfamiliar warmth blooming on his cheeks like cherry blossoms in the spring. “Jaemin” the creature smiles, brushing a few rebellious locks out of his eyes.

“Jaemin.” Jeno repeats, and the word rolls out of his tongue so naturally, that he feels like his mouth was made to pronounce it. “Is that your name?”

The naiad nods.  
“I’m Jeno,” the God adds softly, and for some unknown reason his cheeks feel warm again.

The naiad grabs his callused hand and drags him to the nearby stream; a quiet current brings rose petals to his feet as he feels his own skin being blessed by fresh water. To Jeno, the boy reminisces serenity and comfort, a sanctuary of beauty framed by a decorous crown of flowers.

“I’ve seen you before…” he says, looking at Jeno, and the latter can’t help but stare back into those curious eyes, witnessing hundreds of kaleidoscopic rays shine before him and reflect onto the naiad’s freckled skin. “Yeah. I’m the God of War.” he states dumbly, and the creature cries out the sweetest of laughs. “Oh you’re the God of War” he snickers, and it sounds like the funniest joke in the world, so Jeno lets out an embarrassed chuckle, feeling his stomach be invaded by thousands of minuscule soldiers marching and stomping around. He’d met plenty of nymphs before, but never had he witnessed something so melancholic and sublime be held with such power within someone’s gaze, and as the naiad’s fingers start running over his arms, tickling his skin in the sweetest of ways, Jeno deems himself completely bewitched.

Jaemin starts undressing him of his golden armour with such delicacy that Jeno can’t quite wrap his finger around the whole situation, too intoxicated by the boy’s immaculate aura to be able to make a move. He tries to catch his breath a couple times too many.  
When the naiad has tossed all the superfluous metal on the grass, leaving Jeno draped in a silken white vest alone, he stamps a kiss on his nose and proposes, in a grin: “Play a game with me.”

“Wh- what kind of game do you want to play?” Jeno gulps.  
Jaemin thinks about it for a second. “I hide, and you look for me.” he ends up saying.  
“And when I win?” Jeno inquires, wondering what the prize might be for such an innocuous activity.  
“I’ll hide again!” Jaemin smiles.

A game like this is pointless to Jeno, which explains the frown that forms so quickly above his brows. He’s never played anything like it, he’s only ever known games of suffering and death where if you win you’re allowed to tear your opponent apart, but tearing Jaemin apart is the last thing Jeno wants to do. Instead, curiosity and affection start churning his stomach gently, as he reckons it won’t hurt to try something new. So he turns around and starts counting while the naiad whirls behind him, rustling around in the tall grass, looking for the perfect hiding spot.

He counts until the only thing he can hear is the placid sound of the water stream.

  
Jeno’s feet, wet from having been soaked in the water, find comfort against the soft dirt, which glues iself between his fingers and comes off roughly as he steps onto the grass. The boy runs his gaze upon every tree branch it can reach, allowing himself to assume that Jaemin must have climbed onto one of them while he wasn’t looking. He examines thoroughly the bushes and the tall grass, but the naiad is nowhere to be seen.

Then suddenly something attacks him from behind and shouts “You’re too bad at this game!”

“Oh yeah?” Jeno turns around, noticing a switch in the nymph's innocent gaze, that’s not so innocent anymore and, instead, holds a peculiar glint that speaks excitement and lust.  
“I think you’re just not patient enough.” he laughs, and Jaemin pushes him playfully, causing him to fall on his back and tarnish his pristine white robe.

The other boy follows, and the lanky blades of grass that surround their bodies become obelisks, soaring tall and imposing around them. Flustered and tangled, the two fall into a nervous fit of laughter.  
Because Jaemin is on top of Jeno, skin against skin, and suddenly the earthy floor feels like hot lava against his shoulder blades. The naiad’s naked thighs clutch tightly around his, and the air between them becomes heavy with desire, as they fail to keep distant, falling closer and closer by the second.

Jaemin allows Jeno to touch him, to feel the skin under his veil with his rough hands, and their chests move faintly through slow-paced breaths as crimson blood travels jovial within their bodies.  
Their mouths brush lightly against each other and Jeno’s heart aches beautifully in his chest, invaded by a sublime tenderness that he’d buried deep in his soul too long ago, and that Jaemin is able to ablaze with just a touch of his delicate lips. The creature, spirit of a spring afternoon, can light up Jeno’s cheeks so easily that the latter forgets for a moment what’s the meaning of morality. Their bodies envelope in a serene warmth, tiny particles within the universe, and for the first time in his life Jeno feels so minuscule, so vulnerable that even an ant would be able to defeat him in battle.

Because he’s nothing but a mere God anyway, a hopeless creature of pride clinging onto the fear of being perceived as nothing but that, trying to find consolation in the mortal world through the desire of being held by a stunning river nymph.

So he waits for Jaemin to lean in and kiss him, but the latter doesn’t. It pains Jeno to see the naiad just smirk and get up. “Ah-ah” he shakes his head, looming over Jeno and projecting a handsome shadow onto the emerald floor “Not so fast, sweetheart. You’ll have to find me first.”

And then he’s off, skipping and laughing through elegant emerald blades, and Jeno’s eyelids fall blithe on his eyes as he prepares to start counting again.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading ♥ any kudo/comment is really appreciated!  
> You can find me on [twt](https://twitter.com/seupeuu)


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